


Like a Duck

by mechadogmarron



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! VRAINS
Genre: Friendship, Gen, M/M, Post-Tower Of Hanoi, Pre-Slash, Slice of Life, bonsai, ryoken... ryoken that’s not how you deal with a crush...
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-22
Updated: 2019-09-22
Packaged: 2020-10-26 08:07:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20738981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mechadogmarron/pseuds/mechadogmarron
Summary: Passing time on the boat, Spectre and Ryoken chat about plants, family, and ducks.And, of course, Ryoken’s massive, embarrassing crush on Playmaker. He might be almost aggressively passive, but even Spectre can tell it’s a topic worthy of a little teasing.





	Like a Duck

Snip, snip, and then a careful bend. Under first, then over, firm steel a gentle support to supple wood. Cryptomeria were popular for a reason, and usually adapted beautifully to pots, but Spectre’s were particularly artistic, cajoled and nurtured into shapes that seemed both perfectly natural and completely impossible.

No need to interrupt — there was little to do but wait right now, and Ryoken’s closest companion might as well pass the time doing one of the few things that could bring a genuine smile to his face. He turned to leave, but Spectre had already noticed his presence.

“What can I do for you, sir?”

“I don't need anything. Just wanted to check to see you were doing well. This long at sea can't be easy for you.”

“It’s no trouble. You did a lovely job finding the willow for me.” He glanced over to another bonsai, recently started and still immature. It stuck out like a sore thumb among the rest of his collection. “They’re easy to care for, but I've always thought of them as having a bizarre, flighty temperament. They don't have the same dignity as cedars.”

That was just like him. “It's no trouble. It's good to get off the boat for a while.”

He hummed. “I'm glad it wasn't a problem. I'm thinking about another oak, too. Seems awfully lonely to only have the one. Ah, if you wouldn't mind, I mean. I know it's a bit cramped.”

“There’s plenty of room. If you'd like, you can leave some of them with Genome.”

“He'd probably graft black mulberry onto them. He told me they're a genetically superior fruit once.”

“Why?”

He shrugged. “I can't understand a word he says.”

“He does good work.” And better now that he was working towards Baira’s freedom. He didn't quite understand what ran between his three Knights, but whatever it was, it was precious to them. “Still no signs of Ignis activity. With VRAINS offline, they're likely lying low.”

“Have you been tracking Playmaker?”

Playmaker.

It was hard not to think of the boy, hard not to think of the man he'd become, hard to harden his heart against him now that he had no family of his own to protect and support. His discomfort must've shown on his usually sharp face, because Spectre looked away. “Apologies, sir. I didn't mean to—”

“No, it's fine. I've been keeping an eye on him, but there's little to say. It seems he's mostly going to high school.”

“Hm. Living a normal life, then? Maybe he's finally come to terms.”

Revolver shook his head. “He's like me. Just waiting for everything to stir back up again. Filling his life with insignificancies won't change who he is.”

“I see.” Spectre looked him in the eye, an uncommon gesture. “If you'd like to talk more about him, even the insignificancies, you're welcome to. I’m not going anywhere.”

“It's all pointless anyways. Whatever we do now, we’ll fight again. It's just fate.” Fate which had brought them together and torn them apart, fate which had led to his double-betrayal: first of Playmaker and then of his own father. He could be loyal to no one but himself now, and that was fate too.

“As it's my fate to serve you. And the fate of the five of us to overcome the threat posed by the Ignis.”

Ryoken nodded.

“But it's difficult, isn't it?”

“It's not like you to ask so many questions.” He knew Spectre would take his lack of denial as the confession that it was. He didn't care if his companion knew, but he could never say it so plainly.

“I suppose I mean to say that it's cruel that the two of you ended up turned against one another. He would make an excellent ally in the fight against the Ignis. Almost certainly a better conversationalist than I am, too. You need to talk to actual people sometimes.”

“Are you telling me I need to get out more?” He raised an eyebrow. Spectre rarely took even a centimeter of initiative on his own. “I don't mind only having you for company, you know.”

“I'm like a duck. A human, but not a person,” he replied.

Which almost certainly made sense in Spectre-logic, but Ryoken — for all their many years of companionship — didn't understand it well enough to make heads or tails of the comment. “Hm?”

“If a duck hatches to the companionship of a human, it doesn't understand itself to be a duck in the typical sense. Or more, it understands humans to be ducks, and ducks to be some other sort of creature.”

“Ah. For what it's worth, whether or not you're a human, you're fine company. I…” He couldn't say it, not aloud, but he couldn't cry around anyone else. Maybe it was because Spectre was, at some inner level, inhuman; maybe it was because Spectre, like him, had known terrible loss.

Whatever he felt towards Playmaker — whatever the ultimate nature of the painful knot in his belly when he thought of the even-faced man — the idea of being so vulnerable around him was terrifying, worse than looking down his own potential end.

Spectre smiled. “It's good to hear it, sir. You could approach him, you know.”

“I can't imagine he’d want to see me.”

“I saw the recording of your final duel. I heard him. I think he would.”

“I don't want to.”

His companion laughed. “Sir, I know I can be rather awkward, but I've known you since we were children. I've never seen you so—”

“Don't say it.” As long as it was inside him, as long as it was never externalized, it was safe. He couldn't bear imagining it any other way. “It's not…”

“Alright.” Spectre offered him a gentle smile. “I'm not the same way, you know. I don't really feel those sorts of things.”

“Little duck.” He was struck with the strange urge to ruffle Spectre’s hair, like an older brother would. “I suppose you just want me to be happy?”

“Your happiness is my greatest reward.” Then something sly passed over Spectre’s face. “What would you think if Playmaker said that to you?”

Revolver could think of only one response to that. Spectre’s laugh followed in his mind as he fled.

(But it really wasn't a bad thought at all.)

**Author's Note:**

> I went to a bonsai demonstration in part to research for this. Cool stuff! I’m thinking about trying a ficus.
> 
> Dr. Genome loves black mulberry because it has like, several hundred chromosomes. I feel like he would appreciate that.


End file.
